You've been invited to Secret Persons International--SPI, for short. I'm guessing you've never heard of it; that's because this is its first year running. And besides, why do you think we call it a "Secret"?

It's for agents from every corner of the globe, in all walks of life, and at any stage in their career. (Yes, all you newbies are invited, too. Isn't that marvelous? ) You can bring anyone that you want--as long as they've been cleared--and you and a friend will enjoy a night off from regular SS duty to have fun and games, dancing and laughing, and a party that's never going to stop...

Wait one moment--who's that lying on the floor? Is that U.S. Agent Jonathan Finch? And is he...?

Well, so much for being off duty. I guess we're going to have to find his murder...or murderers...

Oh, well--this is what we get paid for, right? To find the bad guys? So let's hunt 'em down--before he kills again...

"It's unfortunate that we only have one night we're off-duty this month, and all the girls are busy," Artemus Gordon grumbled, as he and his partner, James West, walked up the walkway. It was flaked with snow, which was twirling and curling around them as it danced in the chilled air. "Now we'll be the dateless wonders of the party."

"Artie, relax--you'll be able to find someone to dance the minuet with. That's what poetry was invented for." Jim grinned, shrugging his winter jacket tighter around him. Even though he'd grown up in this kind of weather, it had been so long since he'd experienced a winter as cold as this.

Artie frowned. "It'd have to be very strong poetry to flatter a Scret Service woman, Jim."

"And you're the best." He paused. "If all else fails, you can tag along with me."

Artie's response was a look of horror. "Jim, you honestly want me to follow you around? I'll look like a buffoon in tails!"

The first thing they saw was the blood. It was spilled out over the dance floor, puddling on the granite tiles like rainwater. The hands, curled slightly, fell limp at the side of the body, and the man's hand lolled to one side, all to the chorus of a dozen screams.

Jim and Artie, stunned, stared as the dancers dropped their dates and rushed over to aid the man on the floor. "He's dead!" someone yelled out, and Jim and Artie snapped back into reality.

Everyone looked up from the bloodstained body to see Alexandria Brooks waltz across the room...well, maybe not waltz. Her long, blue gown had more ruffles than her long, dark brown hair, and she was having some balance issues. But she still drew the gazes of the entire guest list, which she responded to with a glaring smile.

"Now where have I heard that before?" Jim asked stiffly, straightening at the sight of the Secret Service's youngest and newest recruit. It's not that he didn't trust her, exactly--it's just that she always had this mischievous glint in her hazel eyes.

"Oh, I wouldn't know...or would I?" Lexi clicked her way across the floor, until she was standing directly over the body. "Looks like he was murdered," she commented, noting the knife wound to the chest.

"You don't sound surprised," Artie commented dryly, raising an eyebrow. He had suspicions about the girl, too, but his were more as to how she'd gotten into the Service at thirteen years of age. Woman were new to the Service, but girls that young seemed absolutely mad.

"Well, you get use to seeing cadavers in this business." She poked her head out slightly, her eyebrows arching. "Interesting."

"What's so interesting about murder?" Jim inquired.

"John Finch." She looked at the agents. "You mean you didn't know?"

They shook their heads in unison.

"Everyone hated him," she replied. "He was on everyone's death list." She gazed around the room. "My guess is that someone here is a murderer."

Jim glanced at Artie, who shrugged. "We just got here, Jim."

"So did Ms. Brooks," Jim pointed out.

Lexi continued, ignoring their comments. "Let's start the interrogation," she said, a sly smile on her face. "How about we start with...Ms. Silver?"

"Me?" suggested a gentle contralto voice. Everyone looked around for the source, and found it in the form of a zaftig figure in a simple, low-cut, green velvet gown, drapped across a burgundy chaise lounge a few yards from the corpse. "You may call me Silver. I've been sitting here for the past hour - some one or more of you is bound to work that out.

"I didn't see or hear a thing, however. Quite focused on this lovely Napolean brandy, you see," she raised a snifter of the viscous amber fluid high. "And on my favorite sport," she added with a chuckle, "of watching a certain Secret Service Man."

She paused to sip delicately from her glass. "I might mention, however, that earlier I did see..."

"the same thing i saw. for as my gaze fell upon the bar were you sat with your brandy, i could not help but follow your gaze as it turned towards the stairs. her red dress was rather stunning. was it not mrs. silver?" asked the tall dark haired man, with the Remington M1875 in its holster shoulder, under his black tuxedo jacket.

"A lie!" snapped the auburn-haired woman. Then she paused to smile. "The first of many to come, or surely this wouldn't be a very interesting murder investigation.

"I am a happily UN-married woman. Oh, and the waiter over there brought me my drink. I don't," she added archly, "sit at bars.

"What I started to mention before I was interrupted by this person," she glared at the tall man for a moment. "Was that I saw this man," she waved a hand languidly toward the corpse. "Fitch, you say is his name? I saw him out on the balcony just off the dining room early this evening, arguing rather fiercely with someone. I'm afraid I only caught a glimse of the other person, standing in the shadows. I couldn't even say for sure if it was a man or a woman, come to think of it. Not knowing it would become important testimony, I went on about what I was doing."

The dark haired mans pulse quickened his blood pressure rose. She had called him a liar in front of all the guest. He was sure that "Ms." Silver had been sitting at the bar with her back to the party.

"Well then if not you then who did I see sitting at the bar as the mystery woman in the red dress accended the stairs?" Stone asked as his eyes stare,unwavering, in the eyes of the lushes woman in the green gown.

All eyes in the room went from Stone to the beautiful woman and back again, as they waited for the reply. The seconds ticked by in an uncomfortable silence.

Everyone turned to looked at Artemus Gordon, who had not said a word since Lexi had pointed towards the Agent Silver.

He smiled, running a hand through his dark, devilish curls. "I know that this will sound terribly naive," he said, laughing slightly as he said it, "but how is it possible for a person to be in two places at once?"

Suddenly, Lexi was grinning, her eyes narrowed in slight amusement. "Mr. Gordon...you are quite right--you do sound terribly naive." She gazed back at the crowd of guests around the body. "Can anyone answer Mr. Gordon's question?"

The guests began to murmur amongst themselves, shifting uneasily.

"I know the answer," someone called out from above, and every pair of eyes in the ballroom rose to meet the person belonging to the voice.

(meanwhile high above)the figure looked down at the guest crowding around the body. a wick smile and evil gleaming eyes. everything was going perfectly as planned. the guest had already started with their useless "interigation" the figure backed into the shadows and disappeared.

Those questions filled the air as everyone looked around at each other with accusing glances.

Jim and Artemus, meanwhile, suddenly noticed that all eyes had turned on them, and they glanced at each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it would be most helpful if you cooperate," Jim admitted, while Artie glared at Lexi. As usually, she was smug in the face. "Now, we have two mysterious persons involved in this case--the red dressed lady, and the voice Finch argued with before he was murdered..."

Artemus smiled back, sarcasm written all over his face. "Ms. Brooks, why don't you leave the investigation to us--please?"

Lexi made a face. "Fine," she said coldly. "Have it your way. But when the next victim hits the floor in a silent fall, you'll have to live with their blood on your hands."

With that, Lexi stalked across the room, taking a seat at the abandoned blackjack table.

Artie glanced at his partner. "If that isn't a jinx, Jim, I don't know what is."

"Artie, you don't believe in jinxes," he murmured back.

"Of course not--what I believe in is what I see. And what I see is a girl who is purposely withholding information."

"Or she's just pretending that she has information--like I said, she got here just after us." Jim glanced over at Lexi, who had stolen the cards from the absent banker's pile to play a rapid-fire game of solitaire.

"We'll deal with her later--you know very well that she's impossible when she's mad. She'll never tell us anything."

Artie glanced at the crowd, smiling. "Well, anyone care to fess up? It would save us a lot of time."

All this did was create a louder commotion amongst the guests, who started flinging accusations at each other.

Jim sighed, looking at his partner's sheepish grin. "Well, that worked well," he muttered.

"I suggest that we handle this investigation in an orderly and sensible manner," Agent Silver's contralto purr cut through the hubbub. She had returned almost immediately, divested of both her drink and her languid manner. "Which would include," she added with a glare directed toward a certain ill-mannered prodigy agent and her similarly-behaving new companion, Stone, "covering every detail as we go. I also think we should bow to the superior experience of our most well-known comrades." She nodded at the dashing Artemus Gordon and his intense partner.

"If I may," she met Gordon's glittering brown eyes, "I think perhaps it would be wise to search the body for evidence?"

"An excellent suggestion, from a lovely lady." Gordon granted her a sweeping bow. "Would you care to assist?" He offered her a gentlemanly hand to help her kneel beside the body of the ill-fated Finch. His gaze lingered for a moment on her impressive decoletage even as he went to one knee opposite her.

Silver smiled with a murmur or thanks, and slipped her hand into Finch's outer coat pocket. "Oh!" she cried in surprise, and drew out ...

Jim and Artie glanced at Lexi, who was smiling brilliantly at them. "I know that you two always like to work by yourselves, but I thought that you might like a change of perspective. Wouldn't you?"

"Why do you think it was on the safety pin?" Jim asked, gazing at her with suspicion behind his look.

"Easily--that's not a deadly chemical. It's simply a knock-out powder. When it enters the bloodstream--poof! You're unconscious."

When the agents looked at her in accusation, she added, "You can stop looking at me like I'm the one who knew about this. I can simply smell it from here--you, of all people, should know that I have a very good sense of smell, Mr. Gordon."

"I believe the lady has already remarked an appreciation of good cognac," Gordon commented as he arrived with a glass of that superlative restorative. "A sip or two seems indicated." He nudged Stone and his cool cloth aside and moved in to sit and settle Silver against his shoulder.

"I thank you both," Silver murmurred, sipping delicately from the glass the handsome agent held to her lips. "That's better." She leaned back and smiled at the man supporting her. "Very nice."

"Well," she heaved a sigh, which seemed to draw the attention of more than just Mr. Gordon's eyes to the moving portion of her anatomy. "Hadn't we better get on with our investigation?"

Stone turned and walked to the stairs. As he began the accent up, agent Brooks caught his attention, with a raised eyebrow. He waved for her to join him.

"Yes Mr. Stone?" she inquired as she reached where he stood.

"Well Ms. Chicky i am going to take a look up stairs to see if anything of interest has happened or can be found, and when i caught your questioning look, i decided that a mind as sharp and witty as yours could do nothing but help me in the search so i offered an invitation." Stone said looking down at the girl because of the height difference caused by his 6foot 2inch frame.

Lexi hesitated, peeking back through her bangs towards Artie, who was tending to Ms. Silver in a manner less than professional.

"Of course," she said, smiling up at Stone. "It's nice that someone around here has enough civility to--"

"Lexi!"

Lexi blinked, spinning around on the stair to see Roderick Mercier leaning against the blackjack table where she'd once set, smirking.

"Um, I, uh, hope you can excuse me for a moment, Mr. Stone--I need to go talk to that man," she said, smiling apologetically. "I promise, I won't dally."

Agent Stone didn't look all to please to see her dashing off to another man, but wasn't given any time to respond as she clicked away.

"What did I miss?" Roderick asked, as Lexi approached.

"While you were taking forever talking to that coachman, Roderick, someone was murdered."

The total frankness of her comment caught him off-guard. "Bloody hell--murder? It's only nine o'clock!"

"Well, when would you have preferred to have had Finch murdered? The cocktail hour?" Lexi rolled her eyes. "Mr. West and Mr. Gordon are getting on my nerves--care to go make a brilliant deduction to prove your worth?"

"I'm your date for tonight, not Sherlock Holmes," he replied, making a face.

Stone stood at the head of the stairs waiting for Ms. Brooks when movement caught his eyes. his gaze followed the figure. The blonde came to him and touched his arm. "Please come with me" she said. Stone followed the woman down the hall. when they had gone a ways she turned and looked up at Stone. Before the blonde could tell Stone her reasons forbringing him here, Stone heard it almost to late. The sound of metal against leather then the tell tell sound of a revlover cocking. Stone dove forward grabbing the blonde in the process. shielding her body with his own as the revolver fired. The shot went over them. The second shot caught Stone in the left shoulder. Stone pulled his Remington and aimed it in the direction of the shots. There was no-one there. He ran around the cornor but saw no one. People were rushing up the stairs. He went back to were the blonde had been but she was gone...

"My dear Miss Silver," Gordon appeared at the lady's side. "You should be careful of sudden exertion so soon after being drugged that way." He let her take the brandy he still held, and frowned when she offered it to Stone.

"I appreciate your gentlemanly concern, my friend," she responded. "But I can't think of my own frailties at a time like this. Poor Mr. Stone has been wounded, and I'm only feeling a little bit faint, anyway."

She smirked just a little as she felt Gordon steal a supportive arm around her waist.

"It's only a flesh wound," the tall dark agent protested after he gulped the 'medicinal' drink.

"Why do men always say that?" grumbled Lexi. "Sit down, you big oaf." She propelled him toward a convenient chair. "Let me get a look at your shoulder."

"You call this a flesh wound?" Lexi glared at Stone, who was smiling at her. "And what are you smiling about?"

Stone sighed painfully, the smile subsiding a little. "Nothing."

Lexi raised an eyebrow at him, then turned and said, "Okay, all you broad-shouldered men out there--let's get Mr. Stone downstairs..."

Since Stone was rather tall, it took six men to get him safely down the stairs, Lexi following behind to watch that no one hit his head on the way down. The whole time, Stone seemed to be only half-conscious, and this worried Lexi a little, though she remained silently.

Once in the library, Stone was laid out on a plush sofa, looking a little more attentive than before. Lexi, after bandaging up the wound as best as she could, left Stone in the library with a few of the female Secret Agents, who were fussing over him like mother hens.

Stone's eyes, though, remained on the stairs, even when he thanked an older woman for his second glass of brandy.

~W~W~W~W~W~W~W~W~W~W~

"You need some help with that?"

James West, glancing up from the mini-testing kit Artie had thrown at him before he'd dashed up the stairs, saw that he was not as alone as he'd thought.

"I'm Roderick Mercier--British Secret Service," Roderick added quickly, though he was pretty sure Jim could guess from his notable accent.

Jim looked at the pre-offered hand. "Pleasure," he said, taking it after a moment. "James West."

"My pleasure! I've been following yours and Mr. Gordon's exploits for over a year," he said, sitting down across the blackjack table from Jim.

"I'm afraid the papers tend to exaggerate everything we--OW!"

Roderick blinked as little puff of smoke rose out of the vial Jim had nearly dropped, smiling slightly. "Do you want some help with that, Mr. West?"

"You're a chemist?"

"Of sorts."

"Good, because my chemist is MIA at the moment," Jim admitted, handing off the vial. "There's something about the reaction that seems familiar, but that's as far as my knowledge goes--Lexi didn't really elaborate on its common name."

As Roderick poured a few chemicals in silence, Jim's gaze turned towards the procession of men coming down the stairs, with Agent Stone between them, looking white that the driven snow.

"Huh--that's peculiar."

Jim turned back to Roderick. "What's peculiar?"

"It does have an odd reaction...but I don't recognize it," Roderick admitted defeatedly. "This isn't any chemical I've worked with--did your...um...deceased, make this?"

"Oh, no," she exclaimed softly. "He's been hurt! Oh, I must get him away from the rest. I've got to talk to someone, but I don't dare let them all know I'm here. Someone has got to understand and stop..." she paused to shudder. "Stop HIM before his plan gets any further. What am I going to do now?"

Stone saw the woman and the look in her eyes. she need to talk to him but not here. he indicated up stairs with his eyes. she nodded her understanding. After a few minutes Stone slipped away and met the mysterious woman up stairs